


acting maturity

by aquamarine_nebula



Series: in the interim [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie survives, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, IT Chapter Two Fix-It, M/M, Marriage proposal of sorts, Post-IT Chapter 2, amputee eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29977905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquamarine_nebula/pseuds/aquamarine_nebula
Summary: The agreement was that Richie wasn't allowed to join Eddie on any work functions.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: in the interim [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204976
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	acting maturity

The agreement was that Richie wasn't allowed to join Eddie on any work functions.

It wasn't because Eddie didn't long for him the entire time he was there, didn't spend most of the evening surreptitiously texting him under the table, that he wasn't particularly satisfied when Richie fell onto him in a frenzy which only formal clothes could account for (Eddie had never claimed that Richie was particularly  _ original _ in his proclivities), but the carefully crafted work persona would never hold up with Richie in the vicinity.

“They think I'm  _ mature _ , Richie. I can't let them believe otherwise at this point,” he'd explained.

He'd been already ten minutes late and still clinging to Richie, so the point was almost rendered moot anyway. Richie had been much too understanding--nothing like his steadfast love for Eddie to really hammer home how little he deserved him--and gently pushed him out the door.

This time, he was lounging on their bed wearing only sweatpants, and tempting Eddie way too much into just staying with him and letting the night take a much more pleasant course. “So how exactly did you persuade your colleagues that you aren't immature?” 

Eddie shook himself out of a daydream in which he'd pinned Richie to the bed to have his way with him. Richie was always good at playing along with that one, even though with only one arm it would be nothing to break out of Eddie's grip.

“Acting,” Eddie said. “You know, that thing you're supposed to do in Bill’s film next month?”

Richie grinned delightedly. “You know I die in the first five minutes, right? So your dreams of dating Hollywood royalty are kind of shot.”

“Who says I'm not going to make a pass at Bill next time I see him?”

Richie shook his head. “Bill is B-list at best. You need to aim bigger than that. Plus, he's balding.”

That made Eddie glance anxiously at the mirror and muss his hair, trying to hide the hairline that had started ever-so-slightly receding, but that he still insisted was a widow’s peak. Richie, still blessed with hair that anyone would be proud of at 30, let alone  _ 40 _ , watched his slight panic with way too much glee. “Fuck you,” Eddie said, for good measure.

Richie sighed. “Wish you would.”

Eddie pulled a few pairs of shoes out of the cupboard. “After the fucking Christmas party.” He sat heavily on the bed and prodded one of the shoes with his foot glumly. “Wish I could trust us enough for you to come.”

“Give us another ten years. I'm sure we’ll get there. Anyway, why would they think you're immature? You're divorced, isn't that the most mature someone can be?”

Eddie looked over his shoulder with a frown. “I think still being married is more mature, no?” He turned back to the shoes. Brown ones. But that meant he'd have to change socks. He grumbled about it under his breath and started on the long-winded process. Everything was more long-winded after the bloody clown had seen fit to bite his arm off.

“How about remarried?”

It was soft enough that Eddie almost didn't catch it, engrossed as he was in tugging his second sock on, but he paused. And turned back to Richie again. “What?” he almost barked.

Richie seemed calm and perfectly relaxed, but Eddie knew him well enough to see the faint thrum of tension that ran through his body, the faint hitch in his breath that could only be seen if you really focussed on his chest, which...well. “What?” Richie parroted.

“Did you just…?”

“Did I just what?”

Eddie glowered at him. “Are you seriously trying to gaslight me right now?”

Richie smiled, but not quite at him. More somewhere over his left shoulder. “Couldn't possibly. You heard Twitter. I'm, like, totally woke now.”

“Yeah, well they haven't heard the worst of your impressions.”

“I don't do the...the Massa one anymore. That was a bit far, even in the 80s.”

“A bit,” Eddie scoffed, wriggling a foot into his chosen shoes.

“Anyway, we have to discuss it before either of us go for it, right?”

“Your more racist impressions, you mean?” Eddie asked.

“ _ No _ , dumbass. Proposing.”

Eddie tried to remember any similar conversations he'd had with Myra, but came up blank. “We do?”

Richie gave him a disbelieving look. “Yes? How am I the one who knows this? I haven't done it before. What, did Myra just inform you that you would get married? Did she even phrase it as a question?”

Eddie rounded on him, more than a little flustered and ruffled. “Why are you assuming she's the one who asked? I can make decisions.”

Richie huffed out a sigh. “Yes, I know. You told me that she was the one who proposed.”

“Oh.”

“Are you feeling like a dick yet?” He paired the question with a prod to his lower back.

“Kind of.”

“Would you want to? Get remarried?”

It, frankly, wasn't anything Eddie had thought about since the painful mess that was his divorce had been finalised. The thought of going through the entire process again had been pushed so far away from his conscious mind that he'd almost forgotten that some people  _ did _ remarry, and were happy with their choice. And not all of them would be marrying someone who'd spent their teenage years helping them sneak out of a house under the nose of an overbearing mother, their closest friend, their first love--their first  _ kiss _ , even. “If it was to you, yes.”

Richie cackled. “Who  _ else _ , unless you have some side pieces you’re not telling me about?”

“Shut up,” Eddie said, but with no real heat, making his way to the head of the bed, where Richie was still lounging.

“But this is probably a good time to tell you that your mother and I have reconnected, and it is so hot, man, you have no--” he broke off when Eddie pulled him into a kiss. Honestly, the only surefire way to shut him up for a few minutes, though he spent a good few seconds giggling into Eddie’s mouth.

It was getting a lot harder to pull away and know that he would be stuck mentally editing everything he said for the next few hours, but it was always good to show that he was a good sport, especially when angling for a raise or a promotion.

“Immature,” he said when he finally built up the strength to move away, flicking Richie’s forehead before going back to the cupboard to choose a tie, deciding at the last second to be a sap and take one of the few that Richie owned, a garish orange with yellow ducks.

“Can I watch you try to put it on?” he asked brightly, shrieking when Eddie lobbed a shoe at him.


End file.
